


It's All A Blur

by britpop



Category: Blur, Britpop - Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britpop/pseuds/britpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various stories loosely strung together into several chapter about Graham Coxon and Damon Albarn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SWISS CAT

**Author's Note:**

> no, these aren't edited and yes, i did titled this fic that.

Alex is sitting in the sink, legs dangling off the countertop and a bottle of champagne in his hand.  
"I've, I've had pets." He slurs.  
"Bullshit!"  
Graham has taken a seat in the floor and is currently cradling an empty bottle of beer like it's his new born.

"I've known you for years now, Alex James and you do not and never have owned a- -"  
"You don't know me, Graham!" He just about shouts. "All you know is my name, not my story!"  
"No one knows you." Dave mutters from where he's seated on the couch. "Everyone knows Damon."  
Damon looks up from his journal. "What?"  
"Nnnothing!" Graham shouts. "Alex James. You have no pets."  
"I have a CAT!" He points at Graham with his bottle accusingly.  
"Do you even know what a cat is, Alex?" Damon asks, staring at him.  
"Yeah! Yeah, they're, uh."  
"Oh god."  
"Shut UP, Damon!" Graham whips around to yell at him. "I wanna hear this."  
The room falls silent and all eyes are on Alex.  
"Cat's.. Cats meow. They're meowing animals and-" 

Graham breaks out into a fit it if laughter and Damon covers his mouth so he won't do the same.  
"Stop! Listen." Alex is 100% serious, which is honestly a bit concerning.  
"Listen to me. I have a cat, a meeeowww animal and it's name is SWISS."  
"SWISS!!" Graham screams, falling back into the floor.  
"Oh my god.." Damon rubs his temples.  
"What?" Alex asks, gulping down the rest of his champagne.  
"You named your cat SWISS!" Graham shouts back.  
"Is it at least the color of Swiss cheese?" Damon asks, almost desperately.  
"It's.. 's like.. Black." He replies.  
"That makes absolutely no sense, Alex." Dave chimes in. "It's a black cat. Why Swiss?"  
"Cos.. Cos cheese." He gestures to the cooler beside the couch and Dave throws him another bottle with a sigh.

Graham's beginning to settle down now and is lying on the tiled floor staring at the bright lights on the ceiling. He wonders if he can loose his vision like this.  
"Did you see the girl with the sign?" Damon asks.  
"Which sign?" Replies Alex, who's struggling to open up the bottle.  
"The one about Graham."  
"Oh sweet lord.." Graham groans, closing his eyes.  
"Graham – Let's fuck!"  
Alex just about screams and Damon shoots him a defensive glare. Alex smirks, taking note of Damon's glare and continues."  
"That's an offer, Graham Cracker."

Graham's face goes red and Damon meets Alex's gaze. "Been there, done that."  
Graham lets out an embarrassed squeal and curls up into a ball on the floor, hugging his beer bottle.  
"You guys are so gay." Dave gets up from the couch and heads towards the door. "I need to call my wife."

~

Graham allows Damon to pick him up off the lobby couch and carry him up to their shared hotel room. After the show they'd all gone their own separate ways. Alex off in search of a disco, Dave to a quiet pub for a drink, and Damon and Graham to the hotel.  
All together Graham had drunk about six bottles of shitty bear and two bottles of champagne. The two bottles of champagne one after the other before the gig, four beers during the gig and two after. Eight bottles of alcohol total, not including the several glasses of wine he'd downed during the 20 mins or so they spent at the after party.

All of this combined had resulted in a blackout state and all he could feel was his body being lifted and moved from place to place by his lovely boyfriend.  
He hears the creaking of the door as it opens and it occurs to him suddenly that he can't see.

"Damon.." He mumbles and reaches out to touch him. Damon leans away from his hand and making a quiet 'hm' noise.  
He's extremely exhausted, running on about two hours of sleep in four days and ready to collapse onto the bed.  
The electronic clock above the television reads 3:00AM in big red letters.

"I can't see, Damon.."  
He gently places Graham on the bed and pulls the sheets over him, tucking him in.  
"Try opening your eyes, sweetie."  
"Oh!" Graham's wide eyed now and all smiles, a particular twinkle in his eyes.  
He giggles like a little girl and Damon slips into bed beside him, reaching over to the nightstand and taking out two pills from the orange container sitting there.  
"Now I can see your pretty face, Damon!" Graham exclaims.  
Damon nods and settles into bed, putting an arm around Graham.  
"I love your face, Damon." Graham continues as he sits up to pull his shirt off over his head. "Especially your nose."  
Graham leans over and kisses the tip of Damon's nose, still smiling all goofy.  
Damon blushes and turns onto his side, back to Graham. "Good night, Graham."  
"Good night, Damon."


	2. peaceful times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its all down hill from here

Damon wraps his arms around Graham's waist, pulling him closer to him. He places his chin on Graham's shoulder and observes silently as Graham flips through the worn and torn pages of Damon's journal.   
He bought it when he was about 16 or 17 and had only written a few entries before he lost it somewhere in the labyrinth of his childhood bedroom. He'd found it again last year, tucked away underneath his bed beneath stacks of old magazines, covered in dust and virtually untouched. He carried it with him everywhere and wrote down almost every thought in it, front and back as to conserve paper.   
This was the first time he'd allowed someone other than himself to go through it, to read the the dreams he had at night and shuffle through his thoughts.   
Graham is probably the only person he'd ever share his journal with. He doesn't trust anyone enough with his feelings or anything extremely private like this. Only Graham.

Graham begins to read aloud from the journal. "I don't know what to say, or how to say it, or what it even is that I'm going to try and say to you. I just know that I want to, need to, tell you it before I end up loosing you somewhere. Don't ask where, I don't know that either. You drink a lot, maybe to that. Or in a dark alley somewhere, or maybe you'll just go away. I don't know. But I need to tell you it before it's too late. I love you, don't go. I'm sorry if you don't feel the same. Maybe we can just forget about this all? I couldn't stop staring at you when you were smoking that cigarette on stage earlier. It's so beautiful. If I could paint, I'd paint that. Let's forget about this."   
Damon's stomach suddenly becomes home to hundreds of little moths fluttering around and making him blush like mad.  
Graham turns his head slightly to see Damon just out of the corner of his eye and asks sheepishly, although he already knows the answer; "Who's that about?"   
Damon hides his face in Graham's neck. "You." He mumbles.   
Graham smiles and continues to flip through the journal.   
"Reminder: Call Alex, one up him on cheese knowledge." Graham reads, snickering a bit. "I don't think that's possibly, honey."  
"Probably not." Damon agrees, eyes fluttering shut. It's sort of unsettling to hear his thoughts read back to him, but at least it's being read to him by someone trustworthy. 

The journal is basically a combination of other people's words that hooked themselves onto his mind and wouldn't let go, his thoughts, lyrics, summaries of the day and notes on the conversations he had been listening to but not participating in.  
He found it to be common nowadays for him to drift off into another plane of existence for some time, could be hours or even days, and then sort of slowly slide back into reality. It's almost like an out of body experience, except it isn't as noticeable after the first few times. The psychologist he sees talk on tv says it's called depersonalization and that it's a result of frequent detachment as a coping device and a symptom of depression. Or something. The signals in their hotel rooms tend to be rather shit and the words of the actors or guests on television tend to shift dramatically from a normal speaking voice to static fuzz.   
He remembers the screen going blue while the psychologist was speaking and the word 'DEPERSONALIZATION' appearing on screen in lighter blue. The fuzzy image combined with the choice of colors made his head hurt like hell and he sort of tuned out after that, but what he heard was heard and it seems to have stuck.

Graham smells like champagne and lavender air freshener, an odd combination but still flattering nonetheless.  
He squeezes him tighter, smiling widening. It's so nice to be loved by someone so kind and caring and, well, perfect.


	3. girls & boys & damon's a dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon's drowsey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i dont know if there will be anything else after this

Damon’s eyes are barely open behind his sunglasses and every movement and words seems to be in slow motion. He hears the interviewer’s words a few seconds after they’re spoken and he begins to reply despite not being entirely sure what was asked.

“I love Graham.” He says to the interviewer and Graham tenses up. “He’s.. He’s like the world to me. I love him, but I can feel him slipping. Think he feels me, too.”

The man raises an eyebrow at Graham, who simply shrugs and scoots away from Damon. Damon wants to pull him back but can hardly even raise his hands. His entire body seems to have been replaced by bags of sand. 

“You two are close then?”   
Graham hurries to answer, “Yes! We are.” He puts an arm around Damon, trying to still keep a distance between their thighs but Damon somehow manages to scoot closer to him, thinking that’s what he was supposed to do. “We’re bes-”  
“Boyfriends.” Damon interrupts, beginning to feel a little dizzy. Graham digs his nails into Damon’s shoulder and the interviewer just stares.  
“Always should be someone you really love.” Damon sings quietly.

 

They’re outside the bar they’d been interviewed in and Graham is beyond livid.   
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands

Damon’s swaying slightly from side to side, humming the tune of the song he quoted earlier, only partially aware of Graham’s raised voice.

“Are you high?” He asks, stepping closer to Damon.  
“Always should be someone you really love.” He sings again, this time mockingly. 

Before he can even catch a glimpse of the look Graham’s making, his cheek is met with a slap, which knocks his sunglasses straight off his face.

“I’ll see you later, Damon.”  
And then he’s gone.


End file.
